


Strange Behaviour

by SteelMyFlame



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Early 80s, Fluff, Haircuts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24966607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteelMyFlame/pseuds/SteelMyFlame
Summary: John asks Simon for a haircut. Simon is more than happy to return the favour.
Relationships: Simon Le Bon/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Strange Behaviour

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Simon knew that agreeing to anything when he was drunk was a bad idea. And agreeing to anything when John was drunk too? Even worse. But it seemed like a good idea at the time, and John had needed very minimal convincing. Now here they were, seated in front of the hotel bathroom mirror, John swaying slightly on a stool he had dragged into the shower while Simon stood behind him, grinning at their reflections.

"Ready?" Simon said.

"Oh God." John laughed, his boyish chuckle making him sound like he was 19 all over again. "Yeah, get on with it, then."

"Right." Simon peered down at the damp crop of hair below him. The bleached streaks that he had mocked earlier were now pressed flat against John's scalp, dampened by a quick rinse. For the life of him, he couldn't remember how they had ended up on the topic of hair. But John had mentioned that he had liked the last haircut he had given Simon; it was something they had gotten up to out of sheer boredom on the tour bus. Simon had laughed so hard that he had sprayed vodka all over the table, and John had challenged him to do it, if he thought it was so bloody easy.

Right. Easy. Simon took a deep breath, glancing down at the scissors in his hand that they had borrowed off one of the wardrobe mistresses. He could do this.

He ran his fingers through John's hair, liking how soft and dark it was. John had now closed his eyes, making a soft "mmmm" sound that was almost inaudible, and Simon wouldn't have heard it if they hadn't been in the bathroom. He felt compelled to stroke John's hair again, watching his friend lean into his touch like a cat getting petted. Simon couldn't help marvelling at how responsive John was to physical contact.

He slid his fingers down the slope of the back of John's head, letting his fingertips flutter over the softer hairs at the base of his skull. Now John seemed to be breathing deeply, eyes still closed, his head now tilted forward to grant Simon access. Simon just let himself touch a little more, drawing circles on the nape of John's neck. He was positive that he saw the littlest shiver run through John's body.

"All right, then." Simon was aware his own voice sounded a little hoarse as he took the scissors in hand, beginning to snip at the longer hairs that were touching John's shoulders. John sat quietly, eyes still closed, letting Simon do his thing. Now the haircut looked less like a mullet.

Combing his fingers through John's hair, he noticed that John's breathing was rapid now, more shallow. It was fascinating. No wonder some people liked having their hair stroked. Maybe it had a very stimulating effect.

He reluctantly forced himself to stop, walking to the front and staring down at John's bowed head. He tipped John's chin up with a finger. "Look up," he said softly, and when John did, he thought he saw something different in John's eyes. Something hungry.

He inspected the bleached fringe again, trying his best to ignore the heated stare John was giving him. But with the position they were in – Simon standing in front of John, who was seated with his mouth at a rather enticing level – it was difficult. Simon cleared his throat before leaning down, snipping some of the dry, highlighted ends off. He had always preferred John with dark hair, anyway.

Once he was done, he brushed off the stray hair and bent down to take a closer look. Simon knew his eyes had an effect on people, and it amused him to no end that John was one of them. Now John's gaze met his own, as if issuing a challenge of their own.

When John spoke, it sounded so loud that it almost startled Simon. "You smell good, Charlie."

"Yeah?" Now Simon was staring at John's mouth, examining the curve of his lips, surrounded by the slightest first signs of stubble. He briefly wondered what it would be like, feeling another man's stubble against his own cheek.

John was still smiling, and Simon wondered just how drunk he was. His eyes seemed clear enough though. "You're crap at haircuts," he said, before leaning forward, his hand seizing Simon by the back of his head and bringing him closer, brushing their lips together.

"Oh," was all Simon said, before the rest of his words were swallowed in John's kiss, and as the scissors clattered to the floor, he was grateful that he had not trimmed off too much of John's hair. _More for me to hold onto_ , he thought, smiling into the kiss.


End file.
